


A War Worth Fighting

by Cassiara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dub-con because of prostitution, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Prostitute Harry Potter, Tags May Change, War, no dubcon with Drarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-06-25 12:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19745788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiara/pseuds/Cassiara
Summary: Harry Potter was done fighting. Done fighting wars, done fighting his sexuality and done fighting criminals. At least, that's what he thought until a bomb went off in Diagon as he was doing his Christmas shopping. Feeling unprepared and overwhelmed Harry is forced into a desperate search for his godson in a country where Magic is suddenly illegal. In his first war Harry had hope for a better future, but at least in this one he has Draco.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right so I don't really know where this fic came from, but I decided I'd dedicate myself to finishing it by starting posting. 
> 
> Thank you a million to my amazing (and patient) beta, Maesterchill! Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Life after the war ended was really nothing like Harry had expected. He’d imagined getting back together with Ginny, going to work for the Aurors, getting married and having 2.4 kids. Of course, it had started out all right. He’d been dating Ginny for about three years before she broke up with him, that had been unexpected. He especially hadn’t expected her reasoning though; 

“It’s kind of hard to date someone when you both fancy the same guy,” she’d explained patiently. Harry, of course, had absolutely no crushes on any guys and furthermore since when did his girlfriend fancy Oliver Wood? 

The incident Harry enjoyed calling ‘The Thing Everyone Apparently Expected Except For Me’ managed to be both completely unexpected and intensely logical. Ginny called the event ‘That Time You Got Sloshed and Sucked Dean Off in My Downstairs Loo’ and she had greeted him with a smug “I told you so” for weeks after it all went down.

Harry hadn’t even minded, because it had been such a revelation to him. He realised that it wasn’t that he didn’t like girls, he just preferred guys. They were a lot easier to understand, probably due to Harry being a bloke himself. Hermione and Ron getting married hadn’t been much of a surprise to anyone, and their bright, intelligent, daughter, Rose, hadn’t been either. 

Finishing three years of Auror training only to realise he absolutely hated the job was unexpected. Harry had stuck with the job for a year, convinced it would grow on him. It hadn’t though, because Harry soon discovered he was sick and tired of fighting. 

He’d still wanted to help people, so he’d started looking for other ways of doing so. And that’s how he’d ended up in the Healer training program. It had been Hermione’s suggestion of course, but once Harry started the training, he found he finally enjoyed his days. The studying and the exams were hell on earth, but he’d finished his last one before Christmas, and been majorly relieved that all that was left to do was his Christmas shopping.

And that was how Harry had found himself in Diagon Alley two days before Christmas, when his life was about to take a turn so unwelcome and unexpected Harry couldn’t have prepared for it if he’d tried.

* * *

The street was ridiculously crowded, forcing Harry to twist and turn, zig-zagging around groups of people to get to his destination. He’d decided to get Teddy a broom this year, a real one, not the toy his godson already owned. He had no idea what to get any of his friends though, and he cursed his tendency to always put things off until the last minute.

As he squeezed past the huge group of people outside George’s shop, a strange feeling came over him. He looked around, panic-stricken, sure that Dementors had somehow shown up in the middle of Diagon. It felt like the world had frozen, like someone was pulling the breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping, only he knew logically that he was still breathing. 

He turned around and saw that he wasn’t alone in his experience. All around him people were clutching their chests or stomachs, looking around with terrified expressions or heaving for breath, some frantically trying again and again to cast spells without success. 

Then the world started falling to pieces around him. 

Harry had always expected the end of the world to be loud, but it was just eerily quiet. Every single item in George’s shop suddenly stopped moving and making noise, and the Christmas music engulfing the street fizzled out. Everything suspended in the air by magic fell to the ground, as if the invisible strings holding it up had been cut. Everything around him fell apart like a reverse Reparo. 

Abruptly, as if someone pushed an ‘on’ button, there was noise again. Sounds of large items dropping to the ground with a heavy thud, screams of pain as the shrunken items people had stuffed in their pockets suddenly returned to their original shape. People shouting for help, or screaming out in pain. It was overwhelming. 

Harry turned to see someone stuck underneath what used to be the Weasley Wizard Wheezes sign, and was now just an un-transfigured heavy plank. He rushed to help, ignoring the people calling out in fear and confusion as they tried to apparate away with no effect.

Harry never reached the man stuck beneath the plank. Without warning he was thrown forwards, and _everything_ was heat. 

Everything was pain. 

Everything was the noise of the explosion. 

Harry gingerly lifted his head and found he’d been thrown inside George’s shop. Outside everything was on fire. Buildings, abandoned shopping bags, and even people. Watching people that had been burned, running and screaming in pain before succumbing and falling to the ground was too horrible for Harry’s brain to process. He stared out of what used to be the window, feeling numb at the fiery hell that was Diagon Alley. 

He had to help them, he had to do something, but he couldn’t work his brain around the fact that a bomb had gone off during his Christmas shopping. 

A child was screaming beside him, and he turned to look at her. She had shards of glass stuck in her arms and face, blood seeping down and mixing with her tears. Harry felt dazed and unable to move, but he had to move, had to act.

He started by moving his feet, but was rewarded only with blinding pain. Looking down, he discovered a shard of glass embedded in his thigh, oozing blood all over the floor. 

Outside the shop the world kept burning, producing thick black smoke and Harry realised if he didn’t move now he’d choke to death. More importantly the little girl would choke. 

Suddenly the world shifted again and, through the ringing in his ears, Harry heard the popping sound of people disapparating. Magic was back. 

He didn’t have time to feel relieved before the world faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting the second chapter along with the fist, since the first is shorter.

Harry woke up feeling groggy and aching. The ringing in his ears had subsided, but he was left with the disturbing feeling that bugs had crawled into them, making him itch terribly. He recognised the feeling from what his patients had described a healing eardrum to feel like. He resisted the urge to claw at his ears to get the unpleasant sensation to subside, and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a plain room that he recognised as the guestroom in Hermione’s parents’ house, although someone had managed to cram two more beds into the room since the last time he’d been there.

A wave of exhaustion rushed over Harry without warning, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to ward it off. The minute he did though, images of the world burning, people burning and the screaming child flooded his eyelids. Someone had attacked Diagon Alley, he realised. Someone who probably wasn’t a Death Eater, seeing as they used a Muggle bomb. Harry knew he should feel something about that; frightened, angry, frustrated or just terrified. He waited for the emotions to come rushing in, but somehow he didn’t feel much of anything. It all felt like a weird dream, like he was reading about it in a book. Like it couldn't possibly be real.

Harry groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His leg hurt, and he remembered the piece of glass sticking out of it. Someone had put a bandage over the wound, but judging by his pain, they hadn’t cast any healing charms. Harry reached out for his wand, intending to heal his leg himself; he was a trainee Healer after all. The only thing he could find on the nightstand though, was a pair of glasses. It was the old pair Harry hadn’t used for years, having finally upgraded after the war ended. He put them on and waited for the world to come into focus.

Harry tried standing, grunting softly in pain as he put weight on his leg. He wouldn’t get far, but he might make it downstairs to find someone, anyone, that could explain what had happened. His leg should probably hurt more than it did, he thought, wondering why everything felt so far off. He forced his brain to think back to his Healer training as he slowly walked through the door. It was something safe to think about if nothing else. He figured his numb state was probably the result of shock or Muggle painkillers, probably a good mix.

Once he made it through the door of the guestroom he heard voices coming from the floor below him. He sighed in relief when he recognised Hermione’s voice, even though he couldn’t hear what she was saying. 

Harry made it to the stairs alright, but he winced when he tried to take a step down the stairs and pain flared from his leg throughout his body. Desperate for answers he gritted his teeth and attempted a second step. The fog in his brain seemed to be lifting and the grief, fear and anger he hadn’t felt earlier was right there on the edge of his mind, ready to jump in at any second. He tried calling out for Hermione, but ended up coughing his lungs out instead. Fuck, how long had he been out? Or had the smoke from the fire damaged his lungs? Harry cursed between coughs; he really needed his wand.

“Harry! What are you doing out of bed?” Hermione called as she rushed up the stairs to meet him. She had bags under her eyes, matched by what looked like leftover mascara from the night before. Harry hadn’t seen his friend look this tired in years, not even when Rose had been a newborn. Hermione had taken to spelling her hair to be a little more relaxed, but now it was back to the messy curls she had sported during their Hogwarts years.

“’Mione, there was a bomb,” he rasped dumbly. She put Harry’s arm over her shoulder, taking the weight off his bad side as she helped him back up the stairs. Harry leaned into her, and felt the strange need to cry. He wasn’t in St. Mungo’s, and that could only mean something terrible had happened. The fact that Hermione looked like she did when they’d been off chasing Horcruxes didn’t help his concerns.

“Yeah, you’re ok though Harry, you’ll be alright,” it sounded to Harry like she was saying it more to herself than she was saying it to him, but he didn’t mind.

“Where’s my wand? What happened?” he asked as they walked slowly back to the bedroom.

“I have it downstairs,” said Hermione, clearly avoiding the last question he’d asked. Harry decided not to press it, lifting a hand to scratch at his ears. The itching was getting steadily worse.

“I - er, I can’t give it to you right now though. It’s not really safe to use magic at the moment,” Hermione finally said as she helped Harry back into the bed.

“Why? What happened?”

“A Muggle group attacked us. They set off three bombs in London, and well - I think they can track us when we use magic,” Hermione said.

Harry felt the childish urge to hide beneath the covers until it all passed. How had he done this at seventeen? How had he dealt with a war? Death and destruction and the despair of it all. He needed to get back to that way of thinking, of acting, because he couldn’t just break down and cry.

“Three bombs?” he asked, dreading the answers to where the other bombs went off.

“Yeah. The one in Diagon, one in St. Mungo’s, and one at the Ministry,” Hermione said, and Harry was relieved to hear the fury in her voice. Somehow it gave him the strength to claw his way out of the strange numb grief he’d got stuck in and get mad too.

“They blew up the hospital?” he asked, outraged. All his colleagues and fellow students worked there, and it had been full of sick people. Sick kids. Fuck, and Ron worked at the Ministry.

“Fuck, is Ron ok? And Rose?” he asked before Hermione had a chance to answer. Her face fell, and Harry closed his eyes, fearing the worst.

“Rose is fine, she’s downstairs. I don’t know where Ron is though,” Hermione said, voice shaking. “George brought you to me after the explosion in Diagon, but he left right afterwards to find Ron and he never came back. And then we had to leave because we’d used magic in our house and the police were coming for our neighbours.”

“Ron is a survivor, he’ll be ok,” Harry said, trying to calm both himself and his friend. He couldn’t even entertain the possibility that Ron wasn’t fine, because that would break Harry beyond repair.

“Hang on, the police is in on it?” he asked, wondering how the Muggles had found out about them.

“Well, not really. I don’t think they know why they’re chasing us. The news are blaming _us_ ,the Magical community, for placing the bombs in London. Apparently, we’re a ‘dangerous cult’ who follow pagan traditions,” Hermione said.

“So, the Muggles don’t know we have magic?” Harry asked

“Some of them do. It’s a group, calling themselves Salemers Reborn. They’ve been sending demands to the Ministry for years, saying if we don’t stop using magic there will be consequences. But, because they’re Muggles, no-one took them seriously. And it’s so stupid, because I’ve _told_ them over and over how important it is to respect _all_ beings, including Muggles. But they never listen, they never _fucking_ listen,” Hermione said, sitting down on the bed next to Harry, angrily wiping away the tears that escaped her eyes. “If they’d taken the threat seriously maybe this wouldn’t have happened”.

“How many -,” Harry started, voice breaking. “How many died?”

“The news are saying 47 dead and over 300 injured. I think most of them are witches and wizards, but we have no way of knowing,” Hermione said, stating the numbers with the same numbness Harry had felt earlier.

Harry didn’t bother stopping his tears then. Someone had killed almost fifty people, not caring if they were kids or elderly or sick. They had blown up people just for being who they were; magical. It was so much to take in, it was all too much. Harry sat up abruptly, wincing at the pain as the movement jolted his leg. _Teddy_.

“Hermione, where’s Teddy?” he asked, desperate to hear his godson was safe.

“I’m sorry Harry, I don’t know,” Hermione said.

“No! No, you have to know, he has to be safe Hermione! I can’t - he has to be safe!” Harry said, begging. He heard his pulse thundering in his ears, and he found it suddenly hard to breathe through his raw throat. Harry saw Teddy as a younger brother, he _had_ to be safe.

“From what I can tell, the people who were injured in the explosions have been taken to private hospitals or mental institutions. The people they’re arresting are being taken to different private mental institutions or prisons. I think maybe the hospitals and prisons are owned by people that are part of the Salemers Reborn. I don’t know what they do with the children though Harry, I’m sorry.”

“He could have gotten out though? Andromeda could have apparated them to the summer house in France or something, right?” Harry asked, desperation hanging off his words.

“Maybe. A lot of people apparated out after the bombings I think, but they’ve blocked it now somehow,” Hermione said, and Harry hated the sympathy in her voice. He didn’t need sympathy, he needed to know his godson was safe.

“What do you mean they’ve blocked it?” Harry asked. He couldn't go to France to check if Teddy was there?

“They have some sort of shield up along the coast I think. We can’t apparate out of the country. Floo doesn’t work either. My colleague, Elara, tried both before she took a cab here. We can apparate inside the country, at least for now. But I think their sensors probably detect that, so it’s not safe.”

“I need my wand Hermione. I need my wand so I can heal my leg and go find Teddy,” Harry said.

“Harry, you can’t! We’re not the only people here and they’d find us. Malfoy had some dittany with him, and I put that on the cut. It should be alright by tomorrow.”

“Draco is here?” Harry asked, feeling suddenly better. Teddy was his cousin something-or-other removed, and he was just as close with the boy as Harry. They could find Teddy together, they would find Teddy.

“He is,” Hermione said, holding out a couple of pills she’d pulled out of her pocket. “Take these, you need to recover before you can do anything else.”

Harry wanted to argue, but he sighed and took the pills, swallowing them with the glass of water she handed him. Hermione was right after all, he couldn’t save Teddy when he couldn’t even walk. And he couldn’t save him if he got caught and shipped off to some magic-suppressing mental institution either.

The next time he woke up the room was dark, and the other beds were occupied. Harry vaguely recognised Hermione’s friend from work, Elara, in one bed and he saw Draco sleeping in the other. Draco had left a Muggle newspaper on the floor beside his bed, and Harry reached out to take it.

**London bombing due to pagan cult! Private company, Security Reserves, help police**

_Three devastating bombs were set off in London two days ago, on the winter solstice. “We believe a pagan cult is behind the bombings. These are severely disturbed individuals that have created an underground society that have been active for years. As far as we can tell this is the first time they have engaged in violence.” Sir Harold Waldron, Metropolitan Police Commissioner, informed the media today._

_“These individuals believe themselves to be chosen, and they live under the delusion that murdering others will give them magical powers” CEO of Security Reserves (SR), Priscilla Lewis, said via email. She goes on to state that these pagans have gone so far as to develop ‘wands’._

_“They may look like sticks” she writes, “but they are in fact highly complex electrical devices that will release a toxin that can cause blackouts, hallucinations and memory loss.” She claims that her company have repeatedly warned the police about this cult, without being taken seriously. “Luckily, we decided to ignore the police’s judgement on this, and have developed technology that will greatly help us in the fight against these terrorists”._

_The Daily Mail has learned that not only has the SR developed a way to track the terrorist pagans when they attempt to contact each other through the internet or phone calls, they have also developed a highly specialised EMP that will render these so called ‘wands’ useless for a period of time. “The portable machines we’ve given the police only work for a shorter period of time, but we are working hard at developing technology that will render their weapons useless permanently.” Thanks to the SR group, all police cars in the UK are now equipped with both a tracker and a specialised EMP. Hopefully the police will respect the advice of the Security Reserves this time around, and quickly round up the terrorists that launched this heinous attack on our city._

Harry threw the offending paper across the room. Security Reserves might as well have been called the Salemers Reborn, he thought, they were obviously run by the same people. The same disgusting people that not only blew up several innocent witches and wizards, but were now trying to blame those very same people. The story of the toxin must have been a way for them to explain the magic the police would inevitably see in their chase for the rest of the magical community. If it wasn’t so horrible, it would be brilliant.

The group must have been planning this for a long time, Harry thought, infiltrating higher positions in the Muggle world and purchasing hospitals across the country. The magical community in the UK was already small and had been weakened after fighting two internal wars in the last 30 years, and Harry realised they hadn’t stood a chance. He considered waking Draco up, needing more answers, needing to find Teddy. It turned out to be unnecessary, the other man was already watching him with tired eyes.

“How are you feeling?” the blond whispered, “The dittany should be working by now.”

Harry tried moving his leg, smiling faintly when there was no pain. He sat up properly and removed the bandage. The cut was healed, not as well as if he’d done it with his wand, but well enough.

“It’s healed. Can we talk?” he asked, gesturing to Elara and getting out of his bed, pointing at the door. Draco nodded and got out of his own bed, following Harry down the stairs.

The living room was littered with maps, Muggle newspaper articles and notes, and Harry’s mind flashed back to how their kitchen table had looked at Grimmauld place during the war against Voldemort. At least in this war Draco was on his side. They’d been friends for years now, and as strange as it had been at first it felt perfectly natural now.

The first time Harry had gone to visit Teddy and Andromeda, and found Draco there, he’d been outraged. He knew Draco had been a scared kid, just like him; Harry had even said so at the other boy’s trial. He still hadn’t been able to stomach Draco’s presence, and they had fought a lot for the first few months. Andromeda didn’t have much patience for it though, and she’d hit them both over the head and told them to get their heads out of each other asses and be there for Teddy. It had taken time, but they had managed it. They still didn’t hang out much without Teddy there, but all three of them have been together a lot.

Draco’s choice of career had both surprised Harry, and convinced him Draco was indeed different from the teenager he’d known. Draco had decided to teach Muggleborn children pre-Hogwarts age so they wouldn’t get to school as confused as Harry had been when he’d started.

“How did you get here?” Harry asked as soon as they made it through the living room to the kitchen and closed the door. He knew it wasn’t the most important question to ask, but he wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that his godson was missing just yet.

“I was at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with the kids I’m tutoring when the bombs went off,” Draco said. Harry recognised the look of sadness, anger and disbelief on his face. He was sure his own looked much the same. “George came down from his office, saying it wasn’t the only bomb. That one of the kids was hurt, and so were you, and St. Mungo’s wasn’t safe. He said he’d take you to Hermione so I took the kids and followed.”

Harry suddenly remembered the girl with the bleeding face. He shook his head to get the flames and screaming out of it.

“There was a girl,” he said, “she had a yellow dress. And glass stuck in her face, she was screaming,” Draco sent him a smile, and Harry hadn’t realised how worried he’d been about her until he felt the relief.

“That’s Lyra. She’s ok now, hopefully still asleep upstairs,” Draco said.

“Thank Merlin!” Harry said, resting his face in his hands. “I don’t know how to deal with all this. How did we do it before?”

“I don’t know. I got through it being scared shitless the whole time. I have more to lose this time though. Mother was already in Italy when the attacks happened, but I have the kids upstairs. And -,”

“Teddy,” they finished together.

“Could they be home?” Harry asked, hoping it would be that simple.

“No, I apparated straight there after I’d dropped the kids off at Hermione’s house. They weren’t there, I think Andromeda had planned to take Teddy out shopping, so they wouldn’t have been at home.”

Shopping, Harry thought horrified. What if they’d been at Diagon when the bombs went off. What if Teddy was -, but no. He couldn’t be. Harry refused to consider the idea that he might.

“We have to find him,” Harry said, clutching at the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“We will find him!” Draco said. A wave of relief flooded Harry. He wasn’t alone in this, they would find Teddy. “We have to get these kids out of the country first though. We can’t go chasing after him with four children trailing after us. And we need to have a way to get Teddy out safely too, before we go breaking him out of wherever they’ve put him.”

“I guess you’re right. I just feel like I can’t function without knowing he’s safe. I just want to run out the door and chase him down right now,” Harry said.

“I know, me too. But we need to be smart about this. We can’t use our magic remember? I think we need to get our hands on some Muggle weapons before we try going after him,” Draco said, looking over at the bowl on the table. Harry hadn’t noticed it before, but he saw now that it contained four wands, one of them his own.

“Yeah, and more importantly we need information. We have no idea where to even begin looking for him,” said Harry, feeling the weight of their task growing.

Draco opened his mouth to answer when they were interrupted by the door opening. The little girl Harry had seen in Diagon after the bombs went off stuck her head in nervously. She had a scar on her cheek, but it wasn’t as bad as Harry feared.

“Mr. Malfoy? Can I come in?” she said, twisting her hands and studying her shoes.

“Of course, Lyra, come sit over here. Are you hungry?” Draco asked in the kind voice Harry thought of as his ‘kid-voice’. Lyra shook her head.

“No, I had a bad dream.”

Harry felt irrationally frightened of the tears that started falling from the girl’s eyes. He could deal with Teddy being emotional, but apparently it didn’t extend to other children. The nurses at work enjoyed making fun of him for it. Used to enjoy, he supposed, stomach clenching painfully.

“That’s alright Lyra, Harry will make some hot chocolate for you, won’t you Harry?” Draco said, and Harry sent him a grateful look for giving him something to do.

Hot chocolate for three, turned into hot chocolate and breakfast for eight as the rest of Draco’s students joined them, followed closely by Hermione, Rose and finally Elara. They didn’t talk much about the Salemers or the new war they found themselves stuck in, it didn’t feel right when surrounded by children. Harry was surprised to discover Draco planned to hold lessons for his students despite everything going on, but Hermione assured him it was good to give them some structure.

Harry raided Hermione’s parents’ wardrobe, finding some clothes that almost fit him. His own bloodstained and singed clothing was unwearable and too much of a reminder for everyone. 

He was in the living room reading the newspapers from the previous four days, trying to learn as much about the Salemers Reborn as he could, when the world went to shit again. Hermione and Elara were on the sofa next to Harry, planning a belated Christmas celebration, when Draco rushed into the room, panic in his eyes.

“Aeson just did accidental magic, we have to go. NOW!” Draco shouted. Harry stood abruptly, newspapers falling to the floor around him. He’d only taken a few steps before they heard the sirens in the distance.

“Hermione, Elara, Draco, take the kids and go,” Harry said, grabbing his wand from the bowl Draco had brought with him from the kitchen.

“Don’t use magic, I’ll stay here and do a couple of spells so they think I’m the one triggering the alarm.”

“I’m staying too,” Draco said, stubbornly. “I’m done being a scared little shit. And you can’t fight them off alone without magic.”

“Fine, we don’t have time to argue. Hermione, Elara, go now,” Harry said, handing them their wands. He didn’t know if he should be furious or relieved that Draco was staying behind. Years ago, he’d have preferred to do it alone, sacrifice himself for the others. Now though, he has Teddy, and he thought that maybe giving himself a better chance at making it out wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“We’ll be at Victoria station in four hours,” said Elara, “meet us there and we’ll figure out where to go.”

“If we hurry we can get away in the car without the police ever knowing we were here,” Hermione said, looking apologetically at Harry and Draco. “Will you be ok without it?”

“We’ll be fine Hermione, just go. Hurry,” Harry said, listening as the sirens grow closer by the second.

He went to the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knives he could find, handing one to Draco and keeping the other for himself. He watched through the window as Hermione and Elara ushered the kids into the car parked outside. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw their car turn a corner, right before the police car arrived.

He cast a Lumos just as the police-car came into view. Draco cast locking charms on all the doors. They both knew it didn’t matter much what they cast, as long as the police rushed directly to them instead of driving after the kids.

“They’ll probably set off the magical EMP as soon as they enter the driveway,” Draco said, “it only lasted for about ten minutes in Diagon Alley. They just need to see that it’s just the two of us here and then we can leave as soon as the EMP wears out.”

“We’ll go to Oxford Street, we can hide in the crowd and take the tube around to shake them off before we meet up with the others,” Harry said, adding ‘if we make it that far’ in his head. They’d be pretty much useless if the police took their wands before the magical EMP wore out.

Draco was right, as soon as the police car stopped outside their house, Harry felt the sensation of something essential being sucked out of him. He grabbed the knife harder, ready to fight. He looked over at Draco and saw that the man had his wand out.

“Hide that you idiot! It won’t work, use the knife!” Harry hissed. Draco just managed to push his wand inside his boot before the doors burst open.

“This is the police, hands up!” a voice yelled, and Harry suddenly felt guilty. The police didn’t know they were working for terrorists. And the man that had called out sounded scared. Harry tried to push it out of his mind, he didn’t have time for sympathy. He _had_ to buy enough time to get out, he _had_ to make it out to find Teddy. Even if it meant using the knife he was clutching on whoever had just walked into the house.

“We’re not the bad guys,” Harry called out, thinking he at least had to give it a try. He didn’t get an answer, and he and Draco stood in eerie quiet in the kitchen, waiting for their magic to return.

When the kitchen door sprung open they both jumped back. Harry almost lost his grip on the knife, and clutched it harder in response.

“We’re not the bad guys,” the oldest cop mimicked, pointing his gun at Harry.

“Never heard that one before, really. You’re originality itself,” he definitely didn’t look scared, he had the same look Harry had seen on some of the older Auror’s faces. The ones who went into the job not because they wanted to help people, but because they wanted to take people down. His partner didn’t look older than nineteen and his gun shook slightly as he pointed it at Draco. Harry figured he must have been the one that called out when they entered.

“We’re not. We were framed,” Harry said, knowing he wouldn’t be believed. It was all about stretching the time out now.

“Yes, and you didn’t just try to contact your fellow terrorists,” the oldest cop said, smirking at Harry. “Put your weapons on the floor and kick them over. Now!”

Harry nodded at Draco, and they put their knives on the floor, kicking them towards the policemen. Knives wouldn’t stand a chance against the guns pointed at them.

“The sticks too,” the scared looking cop said.

“What sticks?” Draco asked, sounding perfectly innocent. If Harry hadn’t got to know him so well over the past few years, he wouldn’t have been able to hear the quiver in his voice at all.

“The wands, or whatever you deluded lunatics call them,” old-cop said, actually rolling his eyes.

“Wands?” Draco asked again, “who could possibly believe in something so stupid? Wands aren’t real you know.”

“Don’t be smart with me! We know all of you have camouflaged weapons. Now. Hand. Them. Over!” old-cop said.

“Just do what he says,” scared-cop said, and Harry was sure he hadn’t meant to sound pleading.

“I’d love to help, really,” Draco said, taking a step back, “but I simply have no idea what you’re talking about. As you may have noticed we’ve already surrendered our weapons.” Draco gestured to the knives on the floor.

Harry shot a glance at the clock above the door, their magic had been gone for five minutes and thirty seconds; it would be back soon. Hopefully. Scared-cop seemed to realise the same thing, because he looked even more scared, eyes darting between Harry and Draco.

“We’ve backup coming. You’ve no chance. Give us your weapons,” scared-cop demanded. When Harry and Draco didn’t react he moved abruptly, pushing Draco up against the wall, pushing his gun up against Draco’s chin.

“On the floor! Both of you!” old-cop demanded. “Let him go Gavin, we want them on the floor.”

Harry looked over and saw Draco turn slowly purple. Scared-cop-Gavin was pushing his arm against Draco’s neck, looking steadily more terrified.

“Let him go!” Harry yelled, taking a step closer, but that only terrified Gavin more.

“Don’t come closer! I’ll shoot!” Gavin yelled at Harry, pointing his gun to Draco’s temple.

“Gavin, for fuck’s sake let him go! We need to search them!” Old-cop said, checking his wristwatch.

Harry took a step back, knowing his magic would be back any time now. He just had to be ready. Draco wouldn’t be able to get to his wand in time, so Harry would have to take both cops out before they shoot. He’d take Gavin first; he was clearly unstable.

“Gavin, we’re running out of time and we still haven’t cleared the house. Let him go! NOW!” old cop said.

Harry felt his magic rush back in and he cast the spell the same second.

“Stupefy,” he shouted, pointing his wand at Gavin who dropped like a doll. Harry spun, casting the same spell on the older cop just as he fired his gun.

Harry took a step back as the bullet hit him in the shoulder, only staying on his feet because of the wall behind him. He stared in shock as warm blood spilled from his shoulder down his arm and started dripping onto the floor. Draco’s touch pulled Harry from his daze.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked, pain shooting through his arm. Apparently, the shock had worn off completely, because the pain only grew, making Harry dizzy with it. 

“Heal your fucking shoulder Harry, other cops will be on the way,” Draco said, heaving for breath.

“We need to modify their memories,” Harry said, gritting his teeth. “Just change how we look or something, so they don’t know who they’re looking for.”

“I’ll do that, you heal your shoulder. We have to get out of here,” Draco said, grabbing his wand and bending over the younger cop.

Using his wand Harry cut open his shirt and twisted his head to try and get a look at the bullet wound. A quick diagnostic charm told him the bullet had gone all the way through, without hitting anything essential. He started casting spells to stop the bleeding and knit the skin back together as Draco worked on the cops’ memories. They finished just as they heard new sirens in the distance.

“We have to go,” Draco said. “Oxford Street?”

“Hang on,” said Harry, and he grabbed the guns that had just been pointed at their heads and handed one to Draco. He cast a quick cleaning charm on himself to get the blood off, and repaired the shirt. “Ok, let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

They Apparated hand in hand into the bathroom of a small pub in Oxford Street. Causing a mass panic by appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the road wasn’t what either of them wanted. They moved without speaking, making their way quickly up the winding staircase from the basement-loo. 

Oxford street was full of people who apparently weren’t deterred by the bombings when it came to the important business of returning unwanted Christmas presents. Harry and Draco quickly jumped into the bookshop next to the pub when a police car approached, but the car drove past them and the pub without slowing.

“That’s strange,” Harry said, “do you think their sensors didn’t detect our apparition?”

“I don’t know, but I say we count our blessings and head for the tube before they notice something happened in that bar,” said Draco, pulling Harry out of the shop. 

After three hours riding the tube around London just in case they were somehow still followed by the police Harry and Draco found themselves in Victoria station. They’d covered their tracks, Draco said he had made the cops remember them looking like two of the people who had died in the battle of Hogwarts. Harry had decided not to ask who. It felt wrong to him, but he knew it was better than framing someone who was actually alive somewhere.

“They’ll _be_ here Draco” Harry said, watching as Draco paced around nervously.

Elara, Hermione and the kids were supposed to have been there five minutes ago, and Harry was starting to worry too.

“What if something happened to them?” Draco asked, chewing his lip.

“It didn’t,” said Harry, grinning as he saw Hermione’s unmistakable curls getting closer.

“But you can’t _know_ that!”

“Draco,” Harry said, pointing at the approaching group.

“Thank Merlin!” Draco exclaimed, running over and crouching next to his students.

“Sorry we’re late Harry. We decided to ditch the car just in case,” Hermione said as she gave Harry a hug. Harry couldn’t help the slight wince as she squeezed his shoulder, it was still rather sore.

“Are you ok?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I got shot a little in the shoulder, but I healed it so it’s fine,” Harry explained, grinning sheepishly.

“You got shot - a little? How do you get shot a little? Harry, you’ve got to be careful!”

“It is only the shoulder, nothing important. And Draco altered the police’s memories, so they don’t remember our faces.”

“Uhm, guys?” Elara asked, calling their attention. “Where do we go from here? Our houses aren’t safe anymore, too magical.”

“We go to Surrey,” Harry said, sighing. He’d promised himself he’d never go back there, but desperate times and all that.

“To your horrible cousin?” Draco asked, looking appalled in the way only he could.

“He came around eventually,” Harry grimaced.

“But Harry, isn’t Dudley a cop?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, no, we definitely don’t go there,” Elara said, shaking her head so fiercely her brown hair got caught in her mouth.

“He is, yeah. But he also wrote to me last month. He has a kid, and apparently she had accidentally turned everything in her room green,” Harry said. He knew Dudley had been brought up learning to fear magic, but he also knew Dudley loved his daughter, Daisy, more than anything.

“Ok, so we do go there then?” Elara said, glancing at Hermione for approval. Hermione was already studying the timetables she’d produced from her purse.

“If we take the bus to Waterloo and change to the train there, we should be in Surrey in about an hour. We’re running low on Muggle money, but we should have just enough to get there, especially if we buy family tickets,” Hermione said.

“That’s a good idea Granger,” Draco said, smiling. He always did function better with a plan in place, Harry thought.

“I’ll pretend to be with Elara here, and you two pretend to be our kids,” Draco said, pointing at Lyra and a child Harry thought was named Birch. “It will be like a game.”

“Then I’ll pretend to be married to Harry,” Hermione said, kneeling next to Aeson, “and you pretend we’re your mummy and daddy.”

The whole experience was bizarre. Draco and Hermione got really into the play-acting, causing the children to do the same. Harry never thought he’d spend the afternoon being called ‘Daddy’ by three-year-old Rose and a random eight-year-old boy, but here he was. At least he got to bond a bit with Elara through the exasperated looks they sent each other the whole way to Surrey. Dudley didn’t live far from the station, so they walked. Not that they’d had much of a choice anyway Harry realised. They didn’t have any money left.

“Daddy, my feet are cold. And tired,” Aeson complained as they walked through the light snow. It didn’t stick to the ground, but it was rather cold, and Harry was shivering himself in his thin shirt.

“Come on then,” he said, lifting the boy onto his back. “We’re almost there.”

“Is it my fault the coppers came?” Aeson whispered in Harry’s ear, and Harry’s heart broke a little for the child. No kid should ever feel guilty for their magic. Harry knew that feeling all too well.

“Not at all Aeson! Magic is perfect and natural and there is nothing wrong with doing it. And I know you don’t decide when to do it yet. Did you know I turned my teacher’s hair blue when I was your age?” Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Did you really?” Aeson asked, sounding awestruck.

“I did, yeah,” Harry said, smiling.

“Mr. Malfoy says you rode on a dragon when there was a war. Is that true?”

“It is, your ‘mummy’ did too actually. It was a very nice dragon,” Harry said, fully planning to use this information against Draco somehow. He hadn’t realised the man spoke about him during his lessons.

By the time they arrived at Dudley’s house the sun had set, and Harry, Draco, Hermione and Elara were carrying a child each. They were all shivering a bit in the cold, but Harry and Draco were worse off, because they hadn’t had a chance to grab their coats before making their escape. If it hadn’t been such a fucked-up situation it would have been funny, Harry thought, ringing the doorbell of his cousin’s house. Dudley, apparently, thought the same thing, because after opening the door and getting over the initial shock he started laughing hysterically. He sobered upon seeing their serious faces though, and gestured them inside.

“This is about the bombing, isn’t it?” he asked, lifting Aeson off Harry’s back.

“Yeah,” Harry said, realising just how exhausted he was now that they had finally made it here.

“Ok then,” Dudley said. Then he turned towards the kids, “how’s about we go to the TV-room and pull out the sofa for you guys? Then you can relax there while the grown-ups make you some food before bed?” The look of absolute joy this sparked in the kids made Harry want to cry. They were safe, at least for now.

They managed to fit all four children on the pull-out sofa, and they were all asleep minutes after Dudley turned on a movie. Harry headed straight to the kitchen to make them all some food. He didn’t have it in him to explain it all to Dudley yet. He was tired, his shoulder hurt and he was terrified. Any of the kids could do accidental magic at any time, and the cops would be after them again. Harry distracted himself from it all by busying himself with making enough pasta Bolognese to feed them all several times over. When he pulled the home-made garlic bread out of the oven though, he realised he couldn’t postpone facing the others and the facts anymore. With a sigh he placed the pot of pasta, bread, plates and cutlery on a tray and headed for the living room. There he found the others sitting around the table, faces serious.

“I made food. Are the kids still sleeping?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Draco said, “but they’ll probably be really hungry when they wake up.”

“Harry Potter you truly are the saviour,” Elara said, reaching for a plate, “I’m so hungry I could eat a hippogriff.”

“Hippogriffs are real?” Dudley asked, managing to look both terrified and amazed.

“Focus Dursley,” Draco said, glaring at Dudley. Harry had told Draco how his life had been growing up, and Draco had been furious with his relatives ever since. Apparently, Dudley taking them in didn’t erase that.

“Ok, yes,” Dudley said, sobering. “So, if I got it right; pagans didn’t blow up London. It’s someone targeting magical people. And the equipment we got really detects and stops magic? And if Daisy or any of the other kids accidentally use magic, they’ll come for her?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. Harry could have kissed her for taking care of explaining it all to his cousin.

“Ok, so we need to get the kids out of the country. And the problem is that they’re blocking your teleporting thing? And you don’t have passports or ID or anything for you or the kids, so you can’t use the train or an airplane or something?” Dudley continued, sounding to Harry like he was reciting something he had to know for a test.

“Exactly, Dursley. Got it in one. A true genius,” Draco said, sending Dudley a glare so intense Harry had only ever seen directed at himself in the past.

“OH!” Dudley suddenly exclaimed, banging his hand on the table. “Harry, some bloke, Lee or whatever, called earlier. I think he was looking for you.”

“And you only say this now?” Draco demanded, and huffed when they all ignored him.

“Lee Jordan?” Harry asked, wondering how he’d thought to call here.

“Yeah, that’s it. He left his number if you want to ring him back,” Dudley said.

Harry was by the phone before his cousin had finished talking, dialling the number Dudley had scribbled down. No one picked up so Harry tried it again, only to yell in victory as he heard Ron yelling in the other end of the phone.

“HELLO THIS IS RON.”

“Ron! You’re ok?” Harry asked, putting the phone on speaker when Hermione ran to his side.

“HARRY YOU’RE IN THE TEFELOON, BRILLIANT. LEE SAYS YOU WEREN’T BEFORE,” Ron shouted.

“Ron! You don’t have to yell,” Hermione said, chiding. Harry thought the firm tone might work on Ron, but only because he couldn’t see the tears streaming down his wife’s face.

“HERMIONE! Are you ok? Is Rose with you?”

“She’s here, we’re fine! Where are you? How are you?” Hermione said.

“I’m at Lee’s mum’s house,” Ron said. “George came to find me after the bombings, but when we got back home you’d already left and the Muggle-Aurors were everywhere. Shaking them off took ages, because we didn’t know they traced our magic. They kept finding us everywhere we went. After we realised we found Lee, and went to his mum’s house. She’s a Muggle.”

“How did you think to call?” Harry asked.

“It was Lee’s idea. He has this book with people’s numbers in it. We hoped maybe you had gone to your parents’ house, but Lee called them earlier and he said a copper picked up. So, then I thought maybe Harry had gone to his cousins since Muggle places are the safest.”

“We were at my parents’,” Hermione said, “you probably just missed us by an hour or so.”

“Then we did go to my cousin,” said Harry. “Do you think you can get here? Are you still with George and Lee?”

“Yeah, they’re here,” Ron said.

“Woke us up with his yelling, didn’t he?” Lee said from the background.

“We probably shouldn’t talk too much in case they’re tapping the phones,” Hermione said. “Ron, come here tomorrow. The address is in Lee’s book. And don’t apparate!”

“Yeah alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, give Rose a kiss from me,” Ron said, hanging up and leaving the line dead.

“He’s ok,” Hermione said, beaming at Harry.

“He is,” Harry said, beaming right back at her before engulfing her in a hug. He didn’t even mind the pain it caused his shoulder. Ron was ok.

Harry grabbed himself a serving of pasta, sitting on the sofa to eat it. Hearing Ron was alright seemed to have restored his appetite, and much of his hope. Ron was alright, so Teddy probably was too, he reasoned. He only managed to finish half his food before he fell asleep, half listening to Elara asking to borrow the magic detecting and dampening equipment Dudley had been issued. 

When he woke he felt rested for the first time since the bomb went off. Even the aching in his shoulder didn’t ruin the feeling of contentment and warmth. Harry wanted to stay on the sofa for hours, not thinking. Of course, his life wasn’t made to work like that and he soon found himself with a lap full of Aeson.

“Are we still playing mother, father and child?” Aeson asked, forcibly pulling Harry’s eyelids open.

“Not right now Aeson, but I can help if you need something,” Harry said, sitting up.

“We’re hungry,” the boy said, pointing at Lyra, Rose, Daisy and Birch. “All the others are sleeeeping.”

Harry groaned, resigning himself to his fate of caregiver for the morning.

“I’ll heat up some pasta then,” he said, smiling at the five kids staring up at him. Harry tried not to let them remind him of Teddy, but they all did. Teddy always made his hair match Rose’s when they met. He liked turning his hair jet black when he was angry, a perfect match to the colour of Birch’s hair. When he was nervous he’d chew on his lip just like Lyra was doing now.

“Pasta is my favourite,” Aeson grinned. Pasta was Teddy’s favourite too, and Harry cursed himself for making it in the first place.

He was glad to discover that someone had put the pot of leftover pasta in the fridge after he fell asleep. Harry placed it on the oven to start re-heating it. He found juice and milk in the fridge and set it out on the table for the kids. Dudley didn’t have enough clean plastic glasses, so he gave the older kids glass ones. Teddy drank from a proper glass and he was just a year or so older than Draco’s students, so Harry figured it was fine. When the pasta was warm Harry decided to eat with the kids, dinner for breakfast was his favourite after all.

“Are you my uncle Harry?” Daisy asked as soon as Harry had served the leftovers.

“Er -,” Harry said, feeling very eloquent. He’d only ever seen Daisy once, and at the time she hadn’t even been a year old.

“My daddy says I have an uncle Harry. And the kids from the TV-room say your name is Harry,” Daisy said. Harry smiled, only a child would think it perfectly logical to wake up and find four kids in their TV-room.

“Yeah, I’m your uncle Harry,” Harry said, deciding that he didn’t mind the title.

“Cool! Can you do magic like me? Daddy says you can!”

“I can,” said Harry, wondering how to explain to a child that he was able to do magic, but if he did they’ll all be arrested. “We’re not allowed to do it right now though.”

“Yeah!” Lyra said. “We’re only allowed to do magic at school. And we’re not that old yet.”

“That’s what my daddy says too. I’m going to grow up super-fast so I can learn all the magic,” Daisy decided.

Harry tried not to consider the option that these kids might never get to go to Hogwarts as he listened to their excited conversation about the school. He had to get them out of the country, at least that way they could learn magic at _a_ school. A knock on the door gave Harry the excuse he needed to leave the kids and his depressing thoughts in the kitchen. When he opened the door Harry barely had time to recognise his best friend before he was caught up in a hug.

“Harry, mate. Thanks for looking after Hermione and Rose!” Ron said, slapping Harry on the back.

“It was Hermione looking after me most of the time actually,” Harry said, grinning.

“What happened to your shoulder Harry?” George cut in, “you didn’t injure it that in the bombing, right?”

“Nah, I maybe got shot a little. But I healed it up, so it’s just a bruise now,” Harry said, glancing down at where the bruise spread down his arm, and up his neck, not covered by his t-shirt.

“Fuck man, how do you get shot a little?” Ron demanded, but Harry was saved from answering when the kids decided to see who was at the door.

“DADDY!” Rose yelled, running for Ron, arms outstretched. Ron picked her up immediately, spinning her around.

“My little Rosie, I missed you so much! I missed you bigger than the whole sun!” Ron said. Harry grinned, he wanted to make fun of Ron for being mushy, but really, he didn’t have the heart. He knew he’d be just as mushy if, _when_ , he found Teddy. Even George and Lee didn’t say anything, although Harry was sure Ron would hear it from George later.

“I missed you more than the whole sun _and_ moon,” Rose said, clutching her father.

“Who else is here?” Lee asked Harry, studying the children that were hiding behind Harry’s legs.

“Me, Hermione, Elara, Draco and Dudley,” Harry said, “oh and of course we have Lyra, Aeson, Birch and Daisy. Kids, this is Ron, Lee and George; they are my friends. Sometimes they’re really funny, and Lee here really loves playing tag.” Harry didn’t know if Lee liked playing tag, he didn’t even know if the kids liked it. It was Teddy’s favourite though.

“Really?” Lyra asked, “Cool! You’re it,” she said, tapping Lee’s leg and running away. The other kids followed her lead and scattered in different directions. Lee sent Harry a half-hearted glare before chasing after them.

All the noise downstairs seemed to finally wake the others in the house, and Hermione threw herself down the stairs and into the arm Ron freed from holding Rose so he could hold both of his girls in his arms. George sent Harry a grin. They’d both been dealing with their own half of the pairing, and knew just how much they’d missed each other. When Ron and Hermione started passionately kissing, Harry led George to the living room, neither of them wanting or needing to see that.

“Since when did the hallway turn into the opening scenes of a Muggle porno,” Draco asked, walking into the room. Harry noticed the small line of skin that became visible above the other man’s waistline when Draco stretched with a yawn. It really wasn’t the time for noticing these kinds of things though, Harry decided.

“Since my little brother found his wife and child, I suppose,” George said, grinning. He sat down on the couch and pulled Rose onto his lap when she came running in yelling about gross parents.

“Where’s Dudley and Elara?” Harry asked Draco, wondering if they were both still sleeping.

“Elara’s sleeping. She stayed up all night studying the equipment the SR gave the cops. Dursley is at work, he needs to keep up appearances apparently,” Draco said, face changing to a sneer when he mentioned Harry’s cousin.

“Dudley isn’t that bad Draco, he came around before I moved out. And he’s helping us now,” Harry said, feeling the need to stand up for his cousin who apparently spoke to his daughter about her ‘uncle Harry’.

“Yes, well - I still don’t like him much,” Draco decided. He left the room and Harry could hear the noise of cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen.

Harry, George and Rose were pulled into the game of tag when Aeson decided to tag Harry, who in turn tagged George. They kept to the ground floor of the house, letting Elara sleep in peace on the first floor. Hermione and Ron had disappeared upstairs as well, and Harry really didn’t want to disturb their reunion. It felt good, just being silly with Lee, George, the kids and eventually Draco. Harry told himself it was all for the kids, the tag and the hide and seek and the silly lunch they made following the kids’ directions. Harry knew he needed it just as much though, just a day where he didn’t have to think about the fact that people wanted to kill him just for existing, again.

He didn’t think about how they weren’t safe, and how they didn’t know when someone would accidentally use magic next. He didn’t consider how to get the kids out of the country, or that they had no way of knowing if the SR had a way to find them even if no one used magic. Ron joined them eventually, throwing himself into the games with his child even more than he usually did. In a quiet moment during hide and seek he hugged Harry again, telling him how grateful he was to Harry for staying behind with Draco to take care of the cops. Harry wasn’t prepared for Ron to start crying, or for being told Hermione was in fact pregnant. That was the end of Harry sticking his head in the sand for the day, and if nothing else Ron had good timing because seconds later Dudley came home. Draco told the kids to play upstairs, instructing the eldest kids to take care of the youngest. He came down minutes later with Hermione and Elara in tow.

“We need a plan,” he said, looking expectantly at Elara. “Did you learn anything from the devices?”

“Yeah,” said Elara, “as far as I can tell they have a long range for detecting our magic when it’s used. It doesn’t work as well under ground though, which is probably why they didn’t notice you and Harry apparating into the loo of that pub. I don’t think we should count on it of course, but if we have to apparate, aiming for somewhere underground is probably our best shot.”

“That’s good,” Lee said, grinning at Elara who promptly blushed.

“What about the magical EMP?” Draco asked.

“Well, as far as I can tell it’s active for about seven to ten minutes, depending on the magical energy in the area it’s set off in. They don’t have that long of a range, about a 30-yard radius. But then they also have magical blockers,” Elara said, face falling.

“Magical blockers?” Harry asked, they really didn’t need the SR having any more devices that fucked with their magic.

“Yeah, it’s a device that will block all magic in a limited area, without a time limitation. The SR doesn’t have many of them though. The ones they do have is placed around the border so we can’t apparate out. And I’m guessing they have them in the hospitals, prisons and institutions they’re using to hold us after catching us.”

“How do you know about them?” Hermione asked.

“I spoke with Dudley last night, apparently the police have been told the SR is working on producing these devices for the important houses of government, but that their current model isn’t mobile. I’m just assuming that’s the way they’re preventing us from apparating out.”

“Thank you, Elara. That really helps,” Draco said.

“You should thank Dudley really, he’s the one who lent me the devices and told me of the magical blocker,” Elara said, grinning at Draco. She hadn’t missed how much Draco didn’t like Dudley. Draco only scowled at her.

“I think I have a way to leave the country actually,” Hermione said, causing everyone to stare at her in shock and awe.

“What?” Harry asked, not really daring to hope.

“I managed to get in touch with Charlie. He’s fine by the way, Molly, Arthur, Percy, Bill and Ginny are too,” she added, smiling at Ron and George. “They’ve all gone to France. The magical French government have set up refugee camps there for all the people who got out.”

“Brilliant!” Ron said.

“Yeah. It’s not just a refugee camp though. They’ve formed an emergency government, Shacklebolt managed to get out along with most of the Aurors. From what Charlie knows they’re working on a way to fight off the SR,” Hermione explained.

“That’s going to take time though,” Dudley said, surprising Harry. “They’ll have to do it the non-magical way, right? Since they can’t use magic here and the SR have gotten all famous and stuff now.”

“True,” Hermione said. “That’s why Charlie and I arranged for them to get a boat over to the coast so we can all get out.”

“That’s amazing Hermione,” Harry said. He didn’t have any intention of leaving without Teddy, but he knew he had to help get everyone else out before he went off to find his godson.

“When?” George asked.

“Where?” added Lee.

“That’s where I need your help,” Hermione said, gesturing to the two redheads in the room. “Charlie said he’d come to the place you went on a holiday before Ron started school, on your uncle’s birthday.”

“He must mean the St. Clemens caves in Hastings, right?” George asked Ron.

“Yeah, I think so. It is on the coast at least,” Ron said.

“So, Hastings, December 27th then,” George decided, grinning at Hermione.

“Hermione, you are a genius!” Draco said, apparently forgetting to call her Granger. He usually did that when he was excited, Harry remembered.

“That’s tomorrow, right?” Harry asked, as he hadn’t really been keeping track of the days.

“Yeah,” Dudley said, “it’s only a two-hour drive though, we’ll make it.”

“That only helps if we have a car,” Draco said, glaring at the Muggle.

“We can rent one, or well, three I suppose. If we’re going to fit everyone,” Lee offered.

“We’re all out of money through,” Elara said.

“I have money,” Dudley said. “I can get us cars.”

“I can drive,” Harry said, feeling useless for not having more to offer. As it turned out though, being able to drive was rather useful as he, Hermione and Dudley were the only ones who could.

“Did Charlie know how many got out?” Harry asked, hoping Hermione would hear the question he didn’t ask out loud. If Teddy was there.

“Yeah, apparently something like three or four thousand got out or were abroad already for Christmas. That still leaves at least two thousand witches or wizards here though,” Hermione said, “and he hasn’t seen Teddy. I’m sorry.”

Harry tried not to be disappointed, throwing himself into planning their escape instead.

They spent most of the evening working out a plan, only taking a break when Dudley ordered pizza for them all and the kids came down to eat. They decided that taking different roads would be safest, in case someone accidentally did magic. Harry didn’t like the idea much. It would leave the people in the car where the magic was performed more vulnerable if they were alone. Both Hermione and Draco agreed it was the best plan however, and Harry figured that had to count for something.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta Maesterchill! Any remaining mistakes are my own.

The next morning Harry got up early to take a shower before any of the action started. He strippped off his shirt, wincing as he lifted his arm. He was just about to enter the shower when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His left shoulder and chest was such a deep purple it almost looked black, the bruise had spread down his arm and up his neck, the colour lightening the farther away from the gunshot wound it got. His healing had only been the bare essentials, and he cursed not being able to follow up with a few more spells. His wand was tucked away in his pants, as useless as a regular wooden stick would have been.

He figured it was harder for Draco and Ron to adjust to life without magic, there were so many things they just hadn’t ever done the Muggle way, or without potions. Neither of them kept their wands at their side, Harry had noticed the day before. Probably so they didn’t cast a spell just out of habit, as he’d seen them reaching for their wand quite a few times without thinking.

Harry decided to make his shower as quick as possible, and used his bruised arm as little as possible. He knew the rest of the house would be up soon, needing the shower. Harry’s typical morning shower usually included a good wank, but he couldn’t even imagine getting close to the right mood with the way things were now. He rinsed off, glad to finally be rid of the not-quite clean feeling he’d had since he spelled the blood off himself.

After his shower Harry wrapped the towel around his waist, deciding to raid Dudley’s closet for some clean clothes. They’d definitely be too big on him, but he figured clean was better than dirty no matter the size of what he was wearing. He tried not to linger on the similarities between these and his childhood cast-offs. He was so lost in thought that he almost ran into Draco on the landing. Draco froze and just stared at Harry, eyes fixed to the rather disgusting bruise.

“Fuck, I thought you healed it?” he said, reaching out as if to touch before changing his mind and letting his hand drop to his side.

“I only had time to do the basics,” Harry said, offering a shrug. He regretted it immediately when his entire upper left side protested with shots of pain.

“Merlin, Harry,” Draco said, looking angry and sad all at the same time. “How has it even come to this? How are we in another sodding war?”

“I’ve no idea,” Harry said, feeling the weight of the situation. “At least we’re not kids this time around.”

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good thing,” Draco admitted. “Back then we at least had the naivety of youth, of not knowing what war entails. We had you, the physical embodiment of hope, destined to kill Riddle.”

Harry sagged, feeling the truth of Draco’s words. Fighting a war now should be easier, being adults. But they knew so much more now, and all that knowledge scared the shit out of him.

“At least this time I have something worth fighting for,” Draco offered, seeing Harry’s defeated expression. “I know you did last time too, but it’s not really the same.”

“It’s not,” Harry agreed. “Last time around I wanted to save the world, and to be honest I don’t give a crap about that this time. I just want Teddy and the ones I love safe.”

“That’s a Slytherin way of thinking if ever I heard one,” Draco said, smirking at Harry.

“Well, it was a toss-up between that and Gryffindor, so I suppose that’s alright.”

* * *

When everybody was awake Dudley called in sick for work and left with Hermione to rent three cars. Harry realised he still hadn’t found the right time to tell everyone he wasn’t going to be leaving the country with them. He assumed they all knew though, or at least that Hermione and Draco did. Harry didn’t think Draco was leaving either, they both wanted to find Teddy.

Teddy. Harry’s thoughts always managed to make their way back to his godson. Where was he now? Was he in pain? Did the Salemers have him somewhere or did he and Andromeda go into hiding when everything went down? Harry didn’t even know what the Salemers did to the people they took, what if they were doing something horrible? An image of Teddy, tied up and in pain as someone performed experiments on him invaded Harry’s mind, and he immediately pushed it down, feeling nauseous. That wasn’t happening, it wasn’t. Teddy was ok, all Harry had to do was find him.

Hermione and Dudley’s return was a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and Harry volunteered to load the cars. No-one but Dudley and Daisy had much stuff bring with them, but Harry made sure all the cars were at least fully loaded with snacks and drinks. Elara was bringing Dudley’s anti-magic equipment, hoping she could do some more research on it in France once it was safe to use her magic on it. Just before leaving Harry decided to grab whatever blankets and warm sweaters Dudley had lying around. They’d all be too big to fit anyone, but it was December and the boat would probably be freezing cold.

He went inside to tell everyone the cars were ready to go, only to find Hermione mid-lecture, telling everyone what roads to take and where to meet up. She looked better than she’d done in days Harry thought, imparting information had always calmed her down. He exchanged glances with Ron, who appeared to be thinking the same thing. They both grinned, and Harry immediately felt bad for smiling when Teddy was missing. Harry looked away from Ron and his eyes landed on Draco. The other man seemed increasingly impatient with the lecture as Hermione droned on, and Harry was willing to bet it wouldn’t be long before she was interrupted. He wasn’t wrong.

“Granger, must you prattle on? I do believe we all understood the plan the third time you went over it,” Draco said, interrupting Hermione mid-sentence.

Harry wondered at how different the dynamic between them was now. When they’d left Hogwarts nine years ago a comment like that would have had Ron and Harry fuming, running to their friend’s defence. Now though, they just smiled, understanding that Draco wasn’t actually being mean, not to mention that Hermione was more than capable of standing up for herself should she need to. 

“Oh, fine,” Hermione said. “We should probably get going anyway, it’s always better to be there early.”

Harry ended up sharing a car with Draco, Lyra and Aeson. The kids looked too tired for their own good, yawning and leaning on each other in the back seat. Harry and the others had tried to protect them from the reality of the war, but it was clear to him now how much it was affecting them.

“Alright, we’re off,” Harry said, “it’s ok now guys, you’ll be safe and out of the country by the end of today.”

“What about my mum though?” Lyra asked, “I miss her, and she will be so mad if I leave the country and don’t ask first.”

Harry immediately felt bad. These kids’ parents must have been just as worried about their kids as he was for Teddy. They’d all decided it wouldn’t be safe to talk to their parents until the kids were safely in France though.

“Your mum isn’t magical Lyra, so the police aren’t after her. She will want you to be safe though, and right now England isn’t safe. I promise Harry and I will try to contact her after you’ve left, alright?” Draco said, making Lyra look calmer.

“Ok, Mr. Draco. Thanks. Will you call Aeson’s parents too?” said Lyra.

“We’ll try to call all the parents. Promise. Now try to get some sleep, both of you.”

The drive went surprisingly easily, Harry thought as he drove past the sign telling them they were entering Hastings. It was already getting dark, but following the signs to the pier wasn’t too difficult after Hermione’s careful planning. Draco’s insistence, however, on reading the map as they drove made it a bit more challenging, since he was constantly giving Harry the wrong directions. Their bickering seemed to calm the kids down though, so Harry didn’t mind. Not that he’d have minded anyway, as it actually worked rather well to calm him down too.

“Are we there yet?” Aeson asked from the back seat, for probably the tenth time in the last half hour.

“Actually, we are,” Harry said. He parked his car as close to the Hastings pier as he could get, glad to see that it was empty of people.

They’d assumed Charlie would arrive here, even though the actual place his family visited was the caves. The caves, after all, was a tourist attraction, and not a viable way for anyone to get out of the country.

“We’ve still half an hour before Charlie is set to arrive,” Draco said. Harry thought maybe it was to soothe his worry that they were the only ones there.

“The other ones took a longer route,” Harry said, “They’ll be here soon.” They decided to stay in the car for a while longer, because the thermostat in the car showed it was well below freezing.

Five minutes later the car Hermione was driving entered the carpark, and Draco and Harry shot each other pleased grins. Two down, one to go then. The kids in the back seat were playing some sort of clapping game, and Harry left them to it, opting to go and have a chat with Hermione.

“How was the trip?” he asked her, trying not to let his teeth chatter from the cold. It didn’t work unless he clenched them, so he imagined he looked rather odd.

“It was fine, we hit a bit of construction work, but it only set us back a few minutes I think,” she said. “How was yours?”

“Safe and free of any accidental magic,” Harry confirmed, smiling. “When’s Dudley set to arrive?”

“He should be here any minute. Gods I hope this is where Charlie meant.”

“It must be,” Harry said, “It’s the only logical place for him to show up. Besides, if he’s not here, we have a good view to see where he might show up. It’s got to be by boat somehow.”

“Harry, Hermione!” Draco shouted from where he was standing across the pier. Harry ran over to him, looking at the place in the distance Draco was pointing. After searching the surface of the water for a moment Harry saw it too, two tiny rowboats heading in their direction.

“If that’s not Charlie and one of his mates I’ll eat my hat,” Ron said, coming up behind them.

“You don’t even have a hat,” Hermione protested, but she was smiling. She had one of her hands wrapped around Ron, and one resting protectively on her belly. Ron held Rose close, letting her sleep with her head resting on his shoulder. The way they looked could almost be peaceful. A family looking at the ocean beneath the stars.

They managed to fit all five children into the boats without too much trouble. Charlie stood inside the boat, catching the kids Ron lifted across to him. Ron helped Hermione get into the boat before turning to Harry, reaching his hand out expectantly.

“Alright mate, you’re next.” He kept his hand out, but his face turned insecure when Harry didn’t take it.

“I’m not going,” he said, giving his friend an apologetic smile. He glanced at Hermione, and as he expected she was looking resigned but unsurprised.

“What are you on about?” Ron demanded, hand still held out to Harry. He looked almost frightened now.

“Teddy didn’t make it out,” Harry said. He looked to Charlie for confirmation, but he knew the man would have said so immediately if his search of the refugee camps had shown even a trace of the boy. Somehow, Harry was still saddened by the small shake of the head Charlie offered.

“Shit. I mean – I get it,” Ron said, looking over at his daughter. Harry knew he’d stay behind in a heartbeat if he wasn’t taking his loved ones with him. “I’d.. I’d stay too, it’s just –,” Ron trailed off. He finally dropped his arm, twisting his hands. He looked torn. Torn between family and friendship, maybe family or duty.

“Mate, you’re making the right choice. Going with your child and pregnant wife is always the right choice,” Harry said, punching Ron’s shoulder in an attempt at light hearted friendship. It didn’t quite work, but Ron looked lighter.

“I’ll stay,” George offered stepping forward, as if he intended to take the place of his little brother. Harry noticed he’d had to let go of Lee’s hand to do so, and it was hard to miss the terrified expression on Lee’s face when he also stepped forward, taking George’s hand again.

“Me too,” Lee offered, and it broke Harry’s heart. They’d already had their moment of bravery. Of fighting a war, throwing themselves into danger. It was supposed to be over.

“No, you fucking won’t!” Draco said, and Harry’s was relieved. He would have tried talking them out of staying behind, but his arguments would probably only have been heard as his ‘hero-complex’ kicking in. Harry rather thought his hero-complex was gone, but he wasn’t sure his friends would trust that, and Draco always made a convincing argument.

“You may spend your talents developing potions and magical items for jokes, but the two of you are some of the most brilliant wizards out there when it comes to inventing things. They’ll need that in France, when they build a resistance.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” George said, “just leaving like this.”

“There isn’t anything for you to _do_ here! Leave so you can actually use your magic to make something helpful,” Harry said, supporting Draco’s argument. He took a step back from the others, towards Draco. He needed to create a distance, to set the line between who stayed and who went.

“Besides, Harry and I won’t be running into battle. We’ll be hiding, trying to find Teddy,” Draco added.

Nobody seemed to question the fact that Draco would stay too. He supposed it was rather obvious once he’d said that he was staying to find Teddy. His friends had all come to know Draco, and they’d have known it was all because of the unyielding love the blond had for his cousin.

“You two take care of each other!” Hermione said. Sometime during their exchange she’d begun crying, and now tears were streaming down her face, turning white in the cold wind.

“We will,” Harry assured her. “You take care of everyone else, yeah?”

She laughed, and Harry had to make a conscious effort not to cry. He moved his injured arm, using the pain to ground himself.

“Hermione, I know you’ll be busy saving the world and whatever, but please make it a priority to keep an eye out for where they might be keeping Teddy?” Draco asked. Harry was suddenly glad he couldn’t see Draco’s face, because his voice sounded so broken Harry was certain all it would take for the tears he’d been holding back to escape would be seeing his expression.

“I – er. We should be going,” Harry said. He couldn’t take this drawn out goodbye anymore. Not when it was making him face the reality that this might be the last time he would see his friends. He let Ron catch him in a tight embrace, before walking away without another word.

He walked to Dudley’s car, making a conscious effort to breathe. He had no idea where to go from here. They’d paid for three days with the rentals, but pretty soon someone would realise Dudley wasn’t showing up for work. They’d notice when no one drove the cars back to return them. So they couldn’t go back to Dudley’s place, and they couldn’t keep his car for more than a day or two. They’d be out of a home, out of a car, out of money and with no clues how to find Teddy.

Harry made it to the cars, turning to see Draco’s silhouette accepting something from Dudley, before walking towards Harry. At least he was not alone in this, Harry thought, watching as Draco approached him. It was a much more optimistic sight than the one of his friends disappearing into the darkness of the ocean in two tiny rowboats, desperate to escape the country.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so if things weren't dark before this is where it starts going downhill. Sorry.

Harry found out the thing Dudley had handed Draco was money about an hour after they left Hastings. Harry had been worried he’d have to explain all his depressing thoughts to Draco, convince him it wasn’t safe to go back to Dudley’s, or keep the car for too long. Apparently, Dudley had already beat Harry to it.

Harry drove them to the outskirts of London, and Draco paid for a private room at a youth hostel. It amused Harry, that while he’d been depressed about fighting another war as an adult, they were still young enough to stay at a youth hostel. Well, maybe it didn’t amuse him, but he saw the irony of it. Then again, maybe Harry wasn’t as grown up as he liked to think. He still had trouble remembering that as a wizard his chances of living to over 150 were pretty high. Well, they had been pretty high. Still though, what was 25 years in a lifespan of a century and a half?

Harry swayed with exhaustion as he entered their rented room. It was small, with a two-story bunk bed against one wall and a small table with a couple of chairs against the other. It was not the hotel bed Harry slept in when he went on holiday last summer, instead it was a metal rimmed bed, with a simple pillow and duvet. The covers were placed at the bottom of the bed, and apparently they were supposed to put them on themselves.

Harry made quick work of it, marvelling at how much easier the task was when his arms were longer, and farther off the ground. He hadn’t put the covers on the Muggle way since he’d graduated Hogwarts, but he supposed being used as a house elf did have some uses. He was about to jump into bed when he spotted Draco standing there, pillow in one hand, casing in the other. He looked more miserable than Harry had seen him, and he wanted to embrace the stupid blond. Draco bloody would break down over a pillow casing.

“Here, let me,” Harry offered, holding out a hand for Draco’s pillow. He hoped his expression was something close to fond exasperation, not just pure exhaustion and despair.

Draco handed the pillow over, hand shaking slightly when it had nothing to clutch onto. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know, it’s alright,” Harry said. He offered Draco a genuine smile. Draco had been so strong, and somehow him being weak now let the part of Harry that’d already won a war emerge.

“I feel so utterly useless without my magic,” Draco said, giving Harry the pillowcase he was holding. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m breaking down over a sodding pillow.”

“Hey, we can do this,” Harry said. He saw the questions Draco didn’t ask clear as day on his face. _How? Why?_ “We can do it because we have to.”

Hours later Harry woke up screaming. Images of Teddy screaming out in pain flashed before his eyes before he was able to shake the nightmare off. Only then did he notice Draco, sitting on the edge of his bed with his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Harry said, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Draco didn’t say anything, instead he stood and grabbed his pillow from the top bunk, placing it next to Harry’s. He climbed into the bed slowly, as if waiting for Harry to tell him to fuck off. Harry moved as close to the wall as he could, making room for Draco. The warmth of another person in his bed felt safe, comforting. Draco smelled of the cheap soap they’d found in the bathroom, but somehow even that was comforting. Harry fell asleep again by pacing his breaths to Draco’s slow, calm inhales.

* * *

Two months later they still had nothing. They had left the car behind at the first hostel, and took three different buses to get to another one. They didn’t want anyone using the car to track them. Harry didn’t think they were being followed, but the part of him that had finished Auror training, the part that was constantly paranoid, demanded they be careful.

They had mostly stayed in their room at the hostel, not leaving except to buy whatever groceries they needed, and the daily papers. They had no idea where to start looking for Teddy, so they turned to the papers. It seemed though, that the more time passed after the bombing, the less the papers had to say about SR and the ‘pagans’.

“I can’t believe we still have _nothing_ to go on!” Harry said, frustration clear in his voice.

Draco looked up from the paper was reading for the third time. “It was never going to be easy.”

And Harry knew that. The truth of it had been shoved down his throat after weeks and weeks of reading papers, desperate for clues. Calling around to children’s hospitals and homes with no results. He’d known before they even started that it would be hard, but Harry had never been good at the kind of hard that takes patience. He’s been good at running in, wand at the ready, relying on his luck and his courage. Nothing but his own life on the line.

Draco chewed at his lip, hesitating over something. It’s something Harry had noticed he did before delivering bad news. No clue of Teddy in the paper? Lip chewing. No news from France? Lip chewing.

“What?” Harry demanded.

“It’s just - er. We’ll have to check out the day after tomorrow,” Draco said, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Why?” Harry said, fully aware that his tone was much sharper than it needed to be.

“We’ve run out of money,” said Draco. His eyes were back on the paper in his hands, though Harry knew he wasn’t reading it.

“Well, fuck,” Harry said. He wanted to cry in frustration, really. How were they going to find Teddy if they didn’t even have the money to sleep in a bed? To eat, or buy the useless bloody papers?

“I know,” Draco said, clutching his paper so tight the edges curled.

Harry sat down heavily on the bed they still shared. He let his mind wander, running through different ways of making money. Different scenarios for how they could keep looking for Teddy. They couldn’t get a job. Doing so would be impossible without proper Muggle identification, which they didn’t have. They couldn’t access Gringotts. They had nothing worth selling. The only non-magical houses he knew of - Dudley’s and Hermione’s parents’ - were compromised.

“What are we going to do?” Harry asked, looking up at Draco. He noticed Draco had completely crumpled the paper now, and his hands were shaking.

“I don’t know,” Draco said, frustration clear. It made Harry want to get up and hug the man. He didn’t have to though, because Draco got up and sat down next to Harry on the bed moments later. “I suppose we could steal some?” he offered, once he was close to Harry. He didn’t sound like he liked the idea himself though.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, “we don’t want cops finding us if we can avoid it.”

“True. Also, I have no idea how to steal anything without getting caught,” Draco said. He laid down on the bed, pulling Harry down with him so he could rest his head on Harry’s shoulder. It was nice, Harry thought, that they could find comfort in each other like this.

They laid like that for a while, trying, and failing to come up with a good option. After a while Harry noticed Draco had fallen asleep. He lifted Draco’s arm gently off him, and replaced his shoulder with a pillow. He needed air. A walk to clear his head.

Part of his head held a plan, but it wasn’t a plan he wanted to consider. He couldn’t shake the conversation he’d heard a couple of days ago though, the one he’d hardly considered at the time.

He’d been to the shop, buying the papers for the day. When he returned two blokes about his own age had been sitting in the communal kitchen, and Harry couldn’t help but overhear their conversation as he’d unpacked his and Draco’s groceries.

“Dude, you know that bar we talked about going to?” one of them said.

“Yeah,” said the other.

“Well Daniel was there last night, and it was fucking swarming with whores.”

“What?” the other man laughed.

“Yeah, apparently it’s a place people go to buy sex. Daniel had like three blokes and a bird come up to him in like the five minutes he was there,” the first man said.

“What, offering to sell him sex?”

“No, trying to buy it.”

At the time, their story hadn’t mattered. Had hardly registered with Harry, who was busy wondering if the papers would hold a clue to Teddy’s location. Now though, the conversation was running through his mind, over and over. They didn’t have any good options. They were out of cash, out of food, and out of information. At least, like this, Harry could rectify two of the three.

He didn’t think he’d actually do it. Pushed the thoughts down in his mind, telling himself he was just out for air. Taking a walk through London streets at midnight. The February air was biting cold, and Harry knew he and Draco wouldn’t survive outside. Not for more than a night or two, then they’d freeze to death or end up casting a warming charm. Either way, they were dead. When Harry found himself outside the bar that the blokes had been talking about though, he wasn’t really surprised that his feet had led him there.

He’d done something similar before, hadn’t he? Going off to a bar and blowing someone, or having a rut against someone in the empty alleys outside. They needed money desperately; they didn’t have anything to sell. Nothing except, maybe, this. Him.

“Wondering if you’re desperate enough?” someone asked. Harry jumped, he hadn’t noticed the man standing in the shadows beside him. Not that he was entirely sure it was a man, he looked more like a boy now that Harry was looking.

“I – er. What?” Harry asked.

“You’re not the first person I’ve seen standing here, staring at that bar,” the stranger offered. “I did it once too, actually.”

“You’re – you work there?” Harry asked. It was easier, after all, to ask rather than answer. Besides, he might get some insight into what he’d be signing up for if he did enter the bar.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it,” said the boy. Or man, Harry still wasn’t sure. “I’m Will, by the way.”

“Harry,” Harry said. And then, because he couldn’t help himself, “how old are you?”

Will laughed, but it never reached his eyes. “I’m 19, but don’t tell the guys in there. I think they like to imagine I’m younger.”

Somehow his age sounded both too young and too old. His face and body looked like that of someone younger, but his eyes spoke of someone who’d seen more than anyone should have at 19. Harry supposed his eyes had looked much the same, if they didn’t still.

“So, Harry, think you’re desperate enough?” Will asked, shivering slightly in his thin jacket.

“I’m not sure,” Harry said. He _was_ desperate. He knew they were out of options, but the longer he stood there the less this felt possible.

“Then go home,” Will said. He reached into his pocket, taking out a cigarette and a lighter. He lit it, and took a deep drag.

Harry laughed bitterly, “Can’t. Don’t have one.”

“Yeah, that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” Will asked. Smoke fell from his lips as he spoke.

“How is it?” Harry asked, “in there.” He pointed to the bar. It looked pretty much like any other bar he’d ever seen.

“It’s somehow easier and worse than I expected. In some ways it’s just like having sub-par sex, then I remember I’m a whore and I hate myself and everyone else,” Will said. Harry suddenly wished he smoked too, because the way Will was handling his fag seemed to bring him some comfort. Harry could use some bloody comfort. 

“Fuck,” Harry muttered. He didn’t want to go in, but what the fuck would he and Draco do if he didn’t?

“I wouldn’t go in there if you’ve got another option. But from the looks of it, you don’t,” Will said.

“How do you know?” Harry asked. It was easier to focus on his conversation with Will than it was to act. As long as he was talking he didn’t have to leave and deal with the consequences, or enter the bar and deal with selling his body for cash.

“Because you’re still standing here,” Will said. “Most people would have left by now.”

“Why are you here?” Harry asked, wondering if it was asking too much.

Will didn’t seem to mind though, shrugging as he threw his fag to the ground. “Mum kicked me out when I came out. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I came here.”

“That’s terrible,” Harry said. He thought though, that Petunia and Vernon would probably have done the same had Harry still been living there when he came out.

“It is what it is, I guess. Life is shit, and you just do whatever you gotta do to get through it,” Will said.

“Fuck,” Harry said again.

“Yeah,” Will said. He pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. “Anyway, I should-,” he gestured to the bar. “If you do decide to come in, you can usually get like 90 quid a fuck. Don’t accept less than 70. A blowjob usually gets you about half. Don’t do anal unless you’ve prepped though, they won’t do it for you.”

“Right. Er – thanks,” Harry said. He watched as the nineteen-year-old boy walked off to do what Harry didn’t have the guts for.

Harry stood with his feet glued to the pavement for another thirty minutes, cursing his inability to move. He couldn’t go back to Draco, not without it feeling like he was giving up, yet he couldn’t enter the bar either.

In the end, it wasn’t about options. It wasn’t about potentially sleeping outside in February, or starving. It came down to Teddy, and what would help Harry find him as soon as possible. He’d walked to his death at seventeen. He could walk into that bar.

* * *

_“Get down on your knees.”_

_Heart beating so loud he can hear it._

_“Fuck, that mouth.”_

_Throwing up behind the trash cans before going back inside._

_“Like that, don’t you?”_

_A sympathetic smile from Will._

_“Yes, suck it.”_

_Jaw aching, bruised knees._

_“Forty quid, is it?”_

_Teddy. Teddy. Teddy. He can do it for Teddy._

_“Dirty whore.”_

_Slut, slag, whore._

* * *

Harry wasn’t sure how long he’d been at the bar. In any case, he’d spent more time in the alley outside than he had inside the bar. Will had been right. It was easier than expected, and so, _so_ much harder.

It was worth it though. He clutched at the roll of money stuck in his pocket. With this, he and Draco could eat, sleep and keep looking. There was no precious time wasted, no laws broken. It was worth it. He repeated the words like a mantra in his head, all the way back to the hostel. It was worth it.

“Where the hell have you been!” Draco demanded as soon as Harry walked through the door.

Draco was in a state. His hair was messed up, sticking up in all the wrong places, like he’d been pulling at it repeatedly. He was standing by the bed they shared, and Harry thought he might have been pacing.

“Nowhere,” Harry said, and saw the fury his response ignited in Draco. “I was just – I got this.” Harry took out the roll of money and held it out to Draco.

Draco’s expression softened immediately, turning into something more similar to shock.

“What – how?” he asked, reaching out to take the money.

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said. He hadn’t thought about what he’d tell Draco. He’d thought about Teddy, and getting through the night.

“It doesn’t -,” Draco said, looking incredulous, “of course it fucking matters!”

“Please, Draco, I just – I need a shower,” Harry said, sagging against the wall. He was so tired, the months of poor sleep and weeks of little food had finally caught up with him all at once.

“Shit, Harry, you look – is that, what is that?” Draco stammered.

“What’s what?” Harry asked, closing his eyes.

“In your hair! Fuck, Harry, it looks like – like,” Draco said.

“Come,” Harry finished. There was no point in hiding it. Draco would keep digging no matter what Harry said, and he was too tired to keep it up.

“What did you _do_?” Draco asked. He sounded horrified, and Harry was glad he had his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see the disgust on Draco’s face.

Harry pushed off the wall and walked towards their bathroom without ever looking at Draco. “I’m going to shower.”

He closed the door before Draco could answer, turning on the shower to drown out all noise. It was as close as he’d get to a silencing charm. The water was scorching, but that’s what he needed. He felt dirty, and he suspected the come in his hair was only partly the reason.

His jaw ached, and he let the hot water run over his face as he massaged it. His neck ached too, and Harry let the reality of what he’d done wash over him, hoping the water would wash it away again. He didn’t realise he was crying until a sob wrenched free from his lips, echoing off the tiles in the shower.

Harry sank down to the floor, letting the shower rain down on him as sobs tore through his body. He was shaking with the force of it, pointlessly wiping at his eyes as new tears and water from the shower ran down his cheeks. He had no time to fall apart, or wallow in self-pity. He could have this though, a few minutes of being absolutely broken before letting it wash down the drain. Five minutes of weakness before drying off and facing the world again.

“The show must go on,” he muttered, smiling grimly at the tiles. At least Ron’s taste in Muggle music was useful for once. 

Draco was waiting when Harry stepped out of the bathroom, money in hand. It wasn’t rolled up anymore, and Harry assumed he’d been counting it.

“There’s like 300 pounds here,” Draco said, waving the money at Harry.

“I know, it won’t hold us over for long. I’ll go back tomorr -,” Harry said, before Draco interrupted.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“Draco, we _need_ the money!” Harry said. He could feel his frustration rising. He’d done what he had to do, and he’d continue to do so. Draco saying he shouldn’t was just pointless.

“I know we do, but Harry, there has to be another way!” Draco was tearing at his hair again, and Harry reached out to stop him. He had to fight not to let pain flash across his face when Draco flinched back as soon as Harry made contact with his skin.

He let the hurt fuel his anger instead. “Really? Well what’s your genius solution then?”

Draco took another step back, but didn’t answer.

“Exactly. You don’t have one,” Harry said. Part of him was relieved. If Draco somehow had some miracle plan, Harry offering his mouth up for fucking would have been for nothing. The other part of him screamed in despair that they didn’t have another solution, and that he’d have to go back.

“Fine, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean this is the solution!” Draco said. He looked terrified, Harry realised.

“Isn’t it?” Harry asked, anger deflating now that he could so clearly see that Draco was just as scared as he was. Just as broken.

“Merlin, I _hate_ this!” Draco said, half sitting, half falling into their bed.

“Me too,” Harry admitted. He wanted to fall into bed too, but he hesitated, not sure if he’d still be welcome there.

Draco seemed to sense his hesitation. “Get in here, you self-sacrificing arse.”

Harry crawled into bed next to Draco, painfully aware of how late it was, and how tired he felt. He closed his eyes, and tuned so he was laying with his back to the other man.

“How – how bad was it?” Draco asked, turning out the lights.

Somehow it was easier like this, Draco’s hand resting on his shoulder and the protection of the darkness. “It was terrible, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I don’t know, I think now that I’ve done it once it won’t be as bad.”

“I wish I could protect you from this, but I don’t know how,” Draco said, and the anguish was clear in his voice.

“It’s not so much what happens out there I need protecting from,” Harry said, shrugging. “The worst of it’s in my head.”

“I’ll cut it off then, if it gets too bad.”

Harry laughed, but it sounded more broken than amused. He let sleep wrap around him, finding comfort in unconsciousness.

* * *

The next morning was strangely normal, Harry thought. He woke with Draco’s arms wrapped around him, but he could tell from his breathing that the other man was awake. Probably had been for a while, as he usually woke before Harry. He’d chosen to stay though, holding Harry while he slept.

Harry stretched, wincing as he noticed the soreness in his body. His bladder was a more pressing issue though, and he gently extracted himself from Draco’s embrace to go relieve himself.

The human brain was a strange concept. It was like it couldn’t process everything that was happening for long periods of time, and would periodically just shut down. It allowed Harry a respite from worrying about Teddy, or feeling disgusted with himself. It let him eat breakfast with Draco without his stomach rejecting the food. It let him pay the receptionist for a few more nights. It also made Draco snap his fingers in Harry’s face, repeating his questions for the third time without a reply.

“Harry!” Draco said again, waving a hand in front of Harry’s face.

“Hm,” muttered Harry.

“I’m going to the shop for the papers, you need anything?”

And just like that, the blissful numbness vanished.

“Yeah, I’ll er- I’ll just go myself,” Harry said, biting his lip. He didn’t want Draco buying the things Harry needed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m going either way. No point in making two trips, is there?” Draco said, sounding impatient.

“It’s fine,” Harry said. He grimaced at his own stupidity. He should have just gone to the shops later without saying anything.

“What do you need?” Draco asked again, each word clipped as he spoke them.

“For fucks sake, you don’t want to know, alright?” Harry said, anger flaring.

“Don’t you bloody dare! I’m here, in this shithole of a Muggle hostel. Looking for Teddy, just like you are. Don’t shut me out.” Draco hissed.

“Fine, whatever. If you’re gagging to know, I need condoms and lube,” Harry said. He let his anger run free in his body, masking the pain and pure mortification he felt.

“What? No you don’t!” Draco said. He looked at Harry with increasing fear, shaking his head when Harry only stared back at him. “I thought you didn’t – not that.”

“I didn’t,” Harry said, “but I will.” He’d realised somewhere in his numbness, and even though it hurt coming out of it, it was with a sudden sense of clarity.

“But we _have_ money now,” Draco said. Harry was horrified to see tears in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because we might have enough to stay here, but we won’t find Teddy like this. We need to be _out there_ looking for him!” Harry knew he was right, and the silence his words was met with only confirmed it.

“We need a car, something big, so we can sleep in it. Maybe a van.” Harry wasn’t sure Draco had even heard of a van, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting one.

“But, Harry,” Draco pleaded.

Harry interrupted him. “We need phones, so we can call each other when we have to split up. We need more weapons, because the guns we took off the cops really isn’t enough. We need food, and a change of clothes. It looks suspicious, with us wearing the same every day.”

“You could just – do what you did,” Draco said, cringing as he made the suggestion.

“Real fucking gets me twice what letting blokes fuck my face does,” Harry said. He was so tired of skirting around the words. So tired of all of it. He couldn’t believe this conversation had started over going to the shop. He couldn’t deal with Draco fighting him on this, when they both knew it was necessary.

“But, it’s –,”

“At least when I’m whoring out my arse I can close my eyes and think of England. Can’t really do that when I have to focus on giving a proper blow-job,” Harry said. He hoped there was some truth to the words.

“Fuck! Fine! Go whore yourself out if that’s what you want. But get your own fucking lube,” Draco said, throwing the money at Harry. The bills separated, and got caught in the air, drifting slowly to the floor.

“You think I want this?” Harry demanded, “what, just because I’m bisexual I love having my arse torn open by strangers?” He wanted to punch something, someone. He settled for throwing his pillow across the room. It hit the wall with an unsatisfactory flop.

“I thought you were straight,” Draco said. And of course, that’s what he’d latch onto. Of course, he’d find the easiest thing Harry had said and hold onto it. Somehow it settled the burning anger Harry had been feeling, and he laughed.

“You and the rest of the world,” he said. Laughing at how incredibly absurd it was to be telling someone other than Ron and Hermione like this.

“So, you’ve had anal se- penetration before?” Draco asked. Harry appreciated him substituting sex for penetration. He didn’t want to think about what he’d be doing as sex, it certainly wouldn’t feel like it.

“Yes,” he said. He sat down in one of their chairs, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands. “I’ve done it before. Normally I rather enjoy it, but this won’t be –,”

“It’ll be different,” Draco finished. “But then you know how much it can fucking hurt?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “which is why I asked for the lube in the first place.”

Draco deflated then, sitting in the chair across from Harry and hiding his face behind his hands in a mirror of Harry’s position.

“Fuck, Harry I’m so sorry. I can’t –,” he said, voice muffled behind his hands. “I’ve been going over it and over it in my head, and I just, I don’t have it in me. I’m sorry.”

Draco couldn’t accept it then, Harry thought. He’d hoped, after Draco had held him through the night, that he wouldn’t find Harry repulsive, but he’d been wrong. “Oh,” he said, and he wanted to follow it up with more. With an _it’s fine_. He couldn’t seem to get the words past his lips though.

“I know it’s necessary, I _know_. I would fucking die for Teddy, but I can’t do that,” Draco said. “I’m so sorry, I’m just – I’m too weak.”

Harry paused, letting his arms fall back to the table so he could really look at Draco. “What are you on about? What can’t you do?”

Draco hesitated a moment, “close my eyes and think of England. I can’t.”

“Fucking hell Draco, I’m not asking you to!” Harry said, staring at Draco in shock. He thought Harry wanted him to whore himself out too?

“But you’re doing it, and you wouldn’t have to as much if I helped,” Draco said, his face still hidden.

Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s wrist. “I couldn’t do it, if you were doing it too.” He only realised how true the words were after he’d spoken them. He could do it now, because it would help them find Teddy, and because it protected Draco. If he didn’t have those reasons it wouldn’t be worth it. Or at least, he wouldn’t be able to justify it in his own head.

“This way, I get to see it as some heroic thing I’m doing. I get to think that I’m saving the two of you by doing it. I know it’s fucked up, but –,”

“It is a heroic thing. You are saving us,” Draco said. Finally lowering his hands. His eyes shone with tears, but there was truth there too.

“So you don’t think it’s disgusting and repulsive?” Harry asked, wanting to know if Draco thought _he_ was.

“I couldn’t think that of you even if I wanted to,” Draco said. He got up and picked the notes off the floor. “I’ll get the lube and condoms, I’m sorry.”


End file.
